Little Blondie
by Edavine
Summary: Sonsa Amell has just been promoted to Warden-Commander by Queen Anora. Upon arriving to Amaranthine, she runs into someone from her past. When a secret is accidentally unveiled that shakes both their worlds, how will that affect their new relationship?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

It had started with shy glances across the library, coyly peeking over pages of worn books faded with age. Then the books were forgotten and ignored as they watched each other around bookshelves and others. After that, came the glances in the hallway and the flushed cheeks when the ogling was noticed.

It took two weeks for them to first speak. Their first conversation was awkward, bumbling and embarrassing, full of flushed cheeks and nervous words. Strange, for he was confident and outgoing, but being near her set his emotions and hormones on edge.

Within time, they grew accustomed to each other, no longer fumbling for topics. During their time in the library, they would no longer coyly peek around obstructions but would sit next to each other. She found she preferred his company over any one else's. Their conversations were nice, but she revelled in the times that they sat together, each reading his own book and saying nothing. They were so relaxed around each other that it almost assured a future for them.

And then…it stopped. He was gone, avoiding her. It cut her deeply, but she pushed the pain away and moved on. A week later, she learned that he wasn't avoiding her, but, instead, he was gone. He escaped.

Another week passed and she heard whispers that he had been captured and returned. She could not help but feel worried. Every mage knew what happened to those who dared to escape and were caught.

Then he was back, sitting at their table in the library as if nothing had changed. She sat next to him, opened her book, and could not help but smile at how right it felt. It surprised her just how much she had missed him.

Apparently, he'd missed her, too. They were inseparable after that, save for time sleeping, in lessons, or relieving other bodily functions. Other mages began to take note, and she found on several occasions that many of the other women and few of the men were casting her jealous, spiteful glares.

A Senior Enchanter pulled her over into the hallway one day. She'd the rumours as well. The older woman warned her about dangers of relationships involving mages and what repercussions they may face if something came of it. She brushed the woman off, though. Why did everyone think they involved? They enjoyed each other's company for companionship and nothing more.

At least that was how she saw it. He began act differently after that, as if he were afraid to touch or be near her. She quickly grew tired of his odd behaviour and began to seriously question their friendship, for that was all it was. The next day, she stayed in the apprentice's chambers, not wanting to face anyone.

A loud commotion from out in the hallway had woken her up. Several of the other apprentices were squealing about something, running to her bed and shaking her awake. She sleepily tried to get them to leave her alone, but they would not leave her be. They were frantically fussing about, saying that they could not believe he was looking for her.

That was when he burst in, causing the other girls to shriek loudly. She squinted, rubbing at her sore ears, and was confused to see the mage in the room. After passing their Harrowing, mages really were not supposed to come back to the apprentice's chambers. So, why was he here?

The way he stormed over to her bedside scared the other girls off and out of the room. He demanded to know why she had been avoiding him, and she shrugged it off as sleepiness. He called her on her bullshit, wanting to know the real reason.

She was almost as surprised to find tears running down her face as he was. The bickering, the pointing, the rumours. She had not realised how much they had gotten to her. In truth, it worried her. She could not help but think that it might ruin their friendship, one of the few good things she had at the tower.

Conflict passed over his features as she broke down. He sat down on the bed next to her and wrapped his arms around her slim frame, pulling her into his chest. It felt strangely comfortable. The most they ever touched was the brush of fingers as they exchanged an item, but this felt oddly right.

He rubbed her back gently as she dried her eyes. A small gasp escaped her mouth as he pressed his lips against her brown hair, mumbling sweet nothings into it. She looked up at him in surprise, and he cupped her chin, enjoying the way her velvet skin felt against his hand. He looked deep into her topaz eyes, his own brown ones sparkling with a strange light as he leaned down to press his lips against hers.

Growing up in the Circle gave a mage two options: learn how to successfully have a quick tryst or remain completely naïve in that area. She was the latter, and – based off the rumours – he was the former. He was surprisingly gentle, and the sensation felt odd but short-lived.

Immediately, he began to apologise. In their entire time as friends, never had she once shown any signs that she was interested in him. He was blathering and embarrassed, wanting to leave the situation but desperately not wanting to release her. After months of desiring her, he was finally holding her, and he did not want it to end.

It is safe to say he was quite surprised when she leaned up to meet his lips with her own. He abruptly pulled back, eyes wide with shock. The hurt that flashed through her eyes about broke his heart. Before she could say anything, he crashed his lips on hers, the gentleness now gone as lust took over.

His tongue prodded at her lips, begging entrance. When she complied, he delved in, moaning at how delicious her lips tasted, like salt and fire. He gently laid her back on the bed, his kisses only growing more and more hungry. Her arms snaked around his neck, fingers weaving into his hair. His hands wandered down her sides, delighting in the curves he had dreamt about for months. Circle robes left little to the imagination, which only made it harder to resist from touching her. He squeezed her hip, and she moaned into mouth, arching into him. True, she was not entirely sure how this worked, but _damn, _it felt good.

Suddenly, he pulled back, and she glared up at him, frustrated that he stopped. He grinned down at her, enjoying how cute she looked when mad. He would have to remember to do that again.

By then, his arousal was pressing uncomfortably against his smallclothes. Any further and he would not be able to stop. The apprentice's bed was small and quite public. He knew she would be mortified if caught. More than that, though, he did not want to press if she was not ready. He knew she was not experienced and was not sure if she was ready.

She answered his unasked question when she grabbed the collar of his robe and pulled him back down on top of her for another fierce kiss, her hand snaking down to caress his manhood through the robes. He moaned against her lips and murmured that they might want to go somewhere more private. She responded by taking his lower lip between her teeth, biting playful which elicited another low groan from the man.

He sat up, breathing deeply and gazing down at her. Her brown tresses had gotten mussed from his fingers wound in them and her normally dark lip rouge had smudged off, revealing perfectly pale lips. His mouth watered at the thought of how wonderful she tasted and how much he wanted to taste her again. He reached out, lightly caressing her cheek.

Catching her hand in his, she pressed his fingers to her lips, kissing the knuckles softly. He raised an eyebrow in curiosity at the strange light that glimmered in her topaz eyes. She took his finger into her mouth, sucking slowly, her tongue playfully teasing the sensitive underside. He hissed in response, grasping her hip with his other hand, kneading and squeezing tightly.

He had enough of the teasing and toying around. If they were not going anywhere, he could not restrain himself much longer. She let his finger fall from her mouth, leaving it resting on her lips, and pushed him off her. Almost in sync, they stood, and he whispered lowly in her ear to meet him in the library.

Reluctantly, he left the room, his fingers trailing over her cheek once more. He groaned inwardly as his manhood rubbed against his smallclothes with each step. The library was not far, but it seemed to take forever for him to get there and even longer for her to.

She ran her thin fingers through her mussed hair as she tried to make herself not look so obvious. It was strange, she thought to herself. She had never really thought of him as anything more than a friend. When it came to romance, she was unexperienced and reluctant. But now that she had gotten a taste, she only wanted more.

Her heart pounded with each step she took towards the library, and she smirked to herself as she walked. How fitting, for them to have their first time in the place where they had first met. When she reached the library, she peeked in slowly. It was late and very few people were in there. She tiptoed around, trying to find out where he had hidden.

A low whistle from above caught her attention, and she looked up, grinning when she saw him sitting atop a bookshelf. He slunk down next to her and pulled her into his arms, rubbing his cheek against her silky hair. She turned to nuzzle into his neck, pressing a trail of kisses from his collarbone to his throat. His breath hitched as she hit a particularly sensitive spot, and she sucked on the soft skin.

He pulled back, intertwining his fingers with hers, and lead her into a private study room. It may not have been the most comfortable place, but it was private which meant they did not have to rush. He had made a stop by his room, taking the blanket from his bed and even bringing some candles. She smiled at the sentiment before he scooped her up in his arms, claiming her lips as his.

Gently, he laid her on the blanket, his hands already running down her sides. He bit down on her earlobe, tugging teasingly, as his fingers toyed with the knots on her robe. She huffed to herself. He was taking far too long. She brushed his fingers aside and undid the knots herself. He grinned at her enthusiasm and pushed her robes off, his eyes widening when he realised she had all ready shed her smallclothes. Seeing her completely bare for the first time sent a wave of heat to his groin, and he moaned appreciatively.

Her fingers were nimble and quick, untying the knot on his robes before he even noticed. He wriggled out of the fabric and removed his smallclothes, finally free of the restricting fabric. Her eyes widened when she looked at him, and he beamed proudly.

Their lips locked, their tongues fighting for dominance. He broke away, leaving a trail of kisses down her neck to her chest. His tongue traced patterns across one perky breast while his thumb ghosted over a hard, pink nipple. She gasped loudly, arching into him, digging her fingers into his shoulders. He took the nipple in his mouth, sucking and nipping at it. She gripped him tighter, and he moaned into her breast.

Unlatching his mouth from the nipple, he made his way down, kissing and licking down to her navel. He spread her legs with his hands, fingers running along the length of her thighs as he continued down. His erection rubbed against her leg, and she moaned softly.

Her breath hitched in her throat as his fingers rubbed circles above her sex. He looked at her, desiring to touch her, to taste her, to be in her. He caught her eyes, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. She nodded and watched his head disappear between her legs. His tongue ran laps around her outer lips, making her toes curl in pleasure.

His tongue flicked at her pearl as a finger pressed into her virgin entrance. She hissed as his pace quickened, and he entered another finger, pleased when he felt her barrier. She dug her fingers into his hair, pulling him away. His face fell for a minute until she leaned down, pressing her lips to his own, tasting herself on his lips.

She pushed him back, crawling on top. He looked at her, a bemused look on his face. She placed a trail of kisses along his jawline, running her tongue against his stubble. He shivered against her, squeezing her hips and pulling her flush against him possessively.

He flipped her over onto her back, and she giggled cutely. His throbbing member pulsed with the desire for release. Positioning himself at her entrance, he looked to her for confirmation. She nodded, rubbing a soft hand across his jaw. She held her breath as his tip penetrated her. Her eyes screwed shut, and she bit her lower lip. He pressed a tender kiss on her forehead, mumbling reassuring words into her ear.

He moved in slowly at first, allowing her to get used to the new sensation. Slowly, he began to go faster and faster. Holding her hips tightly to get the best angle, he began to thrust vigorously. She wove her fingers in his messy hair, pulling him down to press her lips to his.

She placed a line of kisses on his collarbone, sucking at the sensitive flesh. He hissed and pulled completely out before slamming back into her. He covered her lips with his own to muffle her cry. He bit back his own cry of ecstasy as he came, spilling his seed inside her.

Dropping his head to her shoulder, he panted softly as he pulled himself out. He rolled over next to her, and she curled into his side. He tucked a strand of lose hair behind her ear as he leaned in to kiss her. They would not be able to stay there long for fear of the templars finding them, but staying in each other's arms a little longer would not hurt.

Their hands intertwined as they laid next to each other. His rough thumb rubbed gently over her soft, thin hand as he pressed a gentle kiss to her enticing lips. His amber eyes searched hers, overflowing with emotion as he whispered against her lips, "I love you, Sonsa."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Sonsa jumps awake with a start, a loud gasp slipping from her lips. She runs a hand through her messy brown hair. _Where did that dream come from?_ She hadn't thought of that night since the Archdemon was slain. Of course, there hasn't been much time to think of anything since then.

She rolls over, looking at the still sleeping Mhairi. They'd have to be up in an hour anyway. Might as well get a head start. The woman proves to be harder to wake up than she thought she'd be. _She's definitely not a morning person._

They'd been travelling for three days now, and Sonsa was already sick of it. Ever since she helped end the Blight, she hated camping. A year of sleeping on the hard, cold ground could do that to a person. Every morning, she woke up sore in places she didn't even know she had.

This was the last time, though. For today, they are to reach Vigil's Keep. Mhairi seems very eager to get there and join the Wardens. She's been talking about it nonstop since they met up.

The Keep is barely in sight when Sonsa begins to feel that dreaded tickle across her skin, the near-silent whisper in her ear. Mhairi's words barely register in her mind as she knowingly grips her staff.

As if on cue, a frantic man rounds the corner, three stubby genlock chasing after him. Thankfully, genlock are the easiest of the blighted monsters to kill, and Sonsa strikes them down with an experienced hand. The other man does not seem to notice the battle is over and continues to try to beat an already dead genlock senseless. When Sonsa clears her throat, it seems to snap him out of his daze, and he finally realises the darkspawn are dead.

"It's you!" he cries. "Commander, it's terrible!"

As the man recounts his story, the frown on her face only deepens. Darkspawn assaulting a fortified keep, Wardens being overcome, and a nearby mage. As far as she knew, she was the only mage in the Wardens as per the Chantry's law. Then again, as the new commander, she may be excluded from that limitation.

Sonsa offers a reassuring smile to the man and tells him to seek safety until they retake the Keep. Mhairi watches her, a strange light in her eyes. "What is it?"

"I couldn't tell if you were trying to reassure him or yourself," the other woman says honestly.

A sigh slips past her red lips. "Neither am I. My first day at the Keep as Warden-Commander, and all my men may already be dead."

"You can't blame yourself," Mhairi interjects. "We weren't here. It takes time to travel from Denerim the Amaranthine."

Sonsa nods halfheartedly, leading the way up to the Keep. "Let's just pray the Maker has protected them."

It is a small comfort to her to see some of the Keep's men still alive and fighting the darkspawn. She and Mhairi weave their way across the courtyard, helping the soldiers rid the grounds of the creatures.

After having fetched some desperately needed medical supplies, the two women head inside the keep to search out other survivors. Slipping inside, the first thing they see is a gathering of shrieks huddled over a corpse. Their attention drawn from the dead man, the three quickly attack the two living women.

Sonsa rubs at her ear, attempting to stop the ringing to their shrill shrieks. "Commander!" Mhairi cries, examining the man the shrieks had surrounded. "This man is still alive!"

Blue healing magic already emanates from her hands as she kneels next tot the man. His face, covered in blood and grime, slowly relaxes from his pained expression. Many others had not understood why a Warden would choose to be a spirit healer. After all, the legends spoke of arcane warriors and battle mages, those who fought in the thick of things. Sonsa, however, had always tried to avoid conflict, preferring to clean up afterwards.

None of that means that she was helpless. Back in the Circle, she was renowned for her affinity for the elements. Between slaying the Archdemon and her arrival at the Keep, she had even taught some of the apprentices at the Circle while they rebuilt. Despite her young age, many already consider her to be a master of the elements.

A door at the opposite end of the hall comes flying open suddenly. Before Mhairi can even reach for her sword, Sonsa sends a fireball in that direction, knocking the darkspawn off their feet. While the young warrior finishes off the burning blighted bastards, the mage turns her attention back to the man.

A mop of curly black hair covers his face. She pushes it back, finding most of it matter to his skin with blood. Pointed ears peek out from underneath the curls, revealing his elven blood. Looking at his features, she guesses that he is probably around thirty decades, very close to her own age.

He murmurs softly as his head lolls to the side. "Will he be alright, Commander?" Mhairi asks as she rejoins the other woman.

"He'll live for now," Sonsa sighs. "There's not much more I can do for him in the middle of this mess."

"We should probably move him, Commander. Won't be safe to leave him out here."

"You know the Keep better than I," the mage nods. "I'll follow your lead."

The two women lift the lithe mage and carry him towards a small room off the side. Sonsa quickly checks, and, sensing no darkspawn, they carry him into it. While Mhairi keeps a lookout, Sonsa props him up against a wall comfortably. Casting a sleep spell on the elf briefly flashes through her mind. Waking up in the midst of this mess would be an unpleasant surprise.

Before she can do anything, she finds herself staring into a pair of vivid green eyes. The elf lunges towards her, and the two roll backwards in a heap. He ends up sitting on top of her, a curved dagger against her throat.

Mhairi rushes over, pulling out her sword. "What do you think you're doing? Do you have any idea who that is?"

Sonsa, however, had been stunned into silence the moment her blue eyes had met his intent green ones. First, they shone with deep anger and ferocity, but when Mhairi spoke, they took on a bemused light. "Of course I do," he says, sheathing his little dagger. "Sonsa Amell, Hero of Ferelden, Commander of the Gray."

Finding her voice, Sonsa chimes in, "Yes, well, I would appreciate it if you got off me."

"Ah, of course, of course," the man stands and offers Sonsa a hand, which she hesitantly takes. As he pulls her to her feet, he winks charmingly. "You'll have to forgive me. The last thing I saw was one of those creatures on top of me."

"Understandable," Sonsa nods. "Let us be grateful that it went no further."

"Yes, it would've torn my heart to have killed such a lovely lady."

"And I would've hated to have fried such a stupid elf," Sonsa counters, eliciting a giggle from Mhairi and a small smirk from the elf.

Hearing the all-too-familiar growls of darkspawn in the hall, Sonsa and Mhairi prepare their weapons. Looking back, they both notice the elf just standing there, watching them. "I'm guessing you're not one of the Wardens?"

The elf shakes his head, sending his black curls flying. "I am a simple courier, here for you, my lady."

"Well, you certainly came at an inopportune time," Sonsa sighs. "I'm afraid I'm a bit too preoccupied to read letters now."

"For a simple messenger, you are very…agile," Mhairi eyes him warily.

"If you are asking if I am trained in weaponry, then yes, I am."

"Then you can help us," Sonsa adds cheerily."

The elf simply blinks in response. "I'm sorry?"

"You have a message to deliver, and you cannot deliver it until we've cleaned out the Keep. The solution seems simple to me," Sonsa shrugs.

"I suppose I have no choice. At least, I shall be fighting alongside two such lovely ladies," the elf chuckles. Mhairi glares at him, obviously unhappy about this turn of events.

The elf proves to be a very useful ally. Skilled in the stealthy art of duel wielding, he appears to float across the battle field, attacking a monster from behind here, slitting a throat there. The three develop a unique battle plan. The elf stuns with a blow from behind placed in a pressure point, Sonsa incapacitates them with her ice, and Mhairi shatters them with shield and sword.

As soon as the hall is cleared, they move on to the next room. Giggling at a comment from elf, Sonsa hardly notices who is in the room until the sound of flames stop. She turns to face the mage that the first man had told them about, and the smile immediately fades from her face.

He turns to them, a sheepish expression spreading across his face. "I didn't-" He cuts himself off as his eyes land on Sonsa.

Both mages stare at each other, unmoving and barely breathing. "I sense a story here," the elf whispers to Mhairi, who nods in fascination.

Sonsa seems to break free of her silence first. She takes a tentative step forward, then back, then forward again. As her eyes well up with tears, her red lips shake as they from one single word. "Anders?"

"_Anders?"_

All she does is say his name, and all the memories come rushing back. The books he pretended to read in the library. The days he spent watching her, wishing he could be with her. The night he spent with her.

"Sonsa, you…what're you doing here?" he asks, his voice shaking slightly.

"This is my new home, she responds softly. "But you…" That is when she notices the templar's corpses. "What happened? Did they find you?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Anders grimaces. "Fortunately for me, the darkspawn too them out. Less so for them."

"An apostate?" Mhairi questions. "At Vigil's Keep?"

"We were supposed to be stopping for the night," Anders explains, his eyes never leaving Sonsa's face.

Sonsa takes another step forward, tears pooling up in her bright, beautifully blue eyes. "What happened to you? You…"

"My lady," the elf interrupts, "while I'm sure you and your lover need some catching up, may I humbly suggest that we wait until the little infestation problem in cleared?"

"He's not my-" "I'm not her-"

Both mages start at the same time and cut each other off, cheeks tinging red. Neither of them are exactly sure what they are anymore. "You're right," Sonsa finally nods. "We need to move on."

"I'm coming with you," Anders blurts out.

A mixture of hesitation and relief wash over her face, but she simply nods. Having another mage in the party makes things run much faster. They blast their way through the darkspawn battalion with ease. All runs smoothly until they get to the dining room.

The sounds of battle already ring from the room before they enter. Sonsa skids to a stop as soon as she walks in, confusion twisting her pretty face. A trail of darkspawn corpses lead to the center of the room and to a certain redheaded dwarf.

"Oghren?"

Upon hearing his name, Oghren looks up and waves cheerily to her. Before anyone can respond, he whirls around, his battle axe cleaving its way through a hurlock's head.

Mhairi sighs. "First the elf, then the mage, and now _him_."

"You don't like anyone do you?" Anders keenly observes.

"I like the commander."

With the last of them down, Oghren merrily makes his way towards them. The elf leans over Sonsa's shoulder, his breath tickling her ear. "Do we know him?" She nods, a smile spreading across her face.

"Well, well, Warden," Oghren starts, "fancy meeting you here."

"Oh, Oghren!" Sonsa exclaims as she rushes forward, dropping to her knees and throwing her arms around the dwarf. "I've missed you so much."

"Now, girl, don't get yer knickers in a knot!" he sputters, cheeks as red as his hair. "But, aye, I've missed you too."

A wide grin spreads across Sonsa's face, and she giggles, unable to contain her enthusiasm. "Oh, how's Felsi? But more importantly, what're you doing here?"

"Eh, she's still a feisty ol' bronco in the sheets. Less so out of bed. But we got a little nugling, just like-" Seeing the frantic look in her blue eyes, he trails off whatever he'd been saying. "As to why I'm here," Oghren sighs. "Married life isn't fer me. Should'a learned my lesson with Branca. Sittin' at home and raisin' a lil' nugling don't suit me, no matter how cute he is."

"So, you just left them?" Sonsa asks curiously.

"I'm not sayin' it was easy. Felsi knows where I am, though. It's a good cause, an' you always need new recruits. I figger'd that as many darkspawn I fought with you, it's about time I became a Warden too."

Sonsa smiles knowingly, running a hand through his short red hair. "Well, you are always welcome by my side, Oghren. Warden or no."

"Shucks, girl, you gonna make me cry or somethin'," the dwarf says with an overdramatic sniff.

Sonsa finally stands, brushing the dirt off her knees. Oghren looks over the rest of the party. "Well, if it isn't the recruit with the great rack." Mhairi groans again, and Oghren chuckles, his eyes drifting over the rest of the group. Then, it's Oghren's turn to sigh. "Another elf? Wasn't the one enough?"

"He's here for me, Oghren," Sonsa giggles. "Though I still don't know what your name is."

The elf takes her hand and gracefully bows over it, pressing his lips to her knuckles. "Cassio, my lady," he lowly mumbles, noticing the glare Anders sends his way.

Oghren grumbles to himself. "As long as you don't try to bed me, I got no problem with you."

"No worries, dwarf. You are not exactly my type."

"Only Oghren notices the way the elf's eyes follow Sonsa around the room and the way Anders's eyes follow Cassio. "Great two men fighting over her again," Oghren mumbles to himself. "Feels just like the Blight all over again."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

With Oghren's added experience fighting darkspawn, they clear the Keep in no time. The only problem they face is the strangest thing: a talking darkspawn. No sooner is the talking darkspawn dead then the remainder begin to flee. From their position on top of the Keep, they can see a party approaching from the road. Sonsa tells Varel to have to rest of the survivors and the new guests gathered in the throne room.

The new arrival turns out to be none other than Queen Anora. Sonsa politely asks that they stay for the night and discuss things in the morning, seeing as how everyone is exhausted. While they all rest in the throne room, Sonsa walks amongst the survivors, healing their wounds and offering a reassuring smile.

"So, what's yer story?" Oghren asks Anders gruffly.

"What story?" the mage questions, tearing his gaze away from Sonsa.

"Of you an' the Warden. From the way you two kept avoidin' and starin' at each other, it's obvious that you two have somethin'," the dwarf says plainly.

"We…knew each other in the Circle," Anders mumbles.

"Come now, it must be more than that," Cassio chimes in from the shadows. He sits between the two. "It is very obvious that you two were once, or still are, lovers. How did it happen?"

"At the Circle," Anders says again. "We, uhm…"

Suddenly, Oghren sits up, eyes wide as if he just realised something. He and Cassio exchange a glance, and the elf mumbles a silent _oh_.

"What?" Anders asks, looking from one to the other. "What is it?"

"Oh, nothing," Cassio hums with a knowing smile.

"What?"

"Not our place t' say," Oghren growls with a slap across the elf's back.

Cassio lurches forward, trying to regain oxygen. He shakes his head and notices the vellum on the floor beneath him. "Oh, I forgot to give these to her!"

He scurries to his feet and towards Sonsa. Anders jumps to his feet, but Oghren stops him with a stubby arm. "Woah, now, Twinkle Toes. Rein it in."

"Twinkles Toes?" he repeats in frustration.

"I was going to go with _Magey_, but this has a better ring to it, right?"

"Maker, you are so original, dwarf."

"Sonsa!" Cassio calls, the vellum in his hand. "You really need to read these now."

"I'd forgotten all about those, actually," she says. "Thank you, Cassio."

"I wouldn't thank me yet if I were you," he says nervously. "There's two. One from Redcliffe, and one…" he hesitates, "from Rainesfere."

Sonsa's face pales at the last addition and quickly snatches the vellum from his hands. "Eamon wants me to see him at my earliest convenience."

"Which is noble for _get your ass here now_."

"Ad, Teagan…oh…" she pauses, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I-I need to…to…" She looks up at him, her eyes full of worry. "I must go. Excuse me."

She hurries past him and heads upstairs towards the quarters that had been given her. Sighing, Cassio rejoins the other two men. "Maker, elf," Anders gasps. "What did you give her?"

Cassio drops his eyes to the floor, emanating regret. "Something no woman should ever have to read."

"Oghren sighs knowingly. "I feared it was about that."

Anders sighs in frustration. "Why am I the only one out of the loop? The elf doesn't even know Sonsa!"

"You may have known her once," Oghren growls, "but times have changed, boy. The situation's the the same an' neither is she."

Up in her rooms, Sonsa quickly throws supplies into her bag. She had run out of potions clearing the Keep and would have to make some more before she left. Extra robes, of course. When she had been fighting the Blight, she would have to wear one set of robes until they were threadbare and she could afford to replace them. She swore she would never let that happen again.

A knock at the door catches her off guard, and she cracks it open. "Cassio?"

"Sonsa, you can't go tonight," he says simply.

"I have to! I have to go and check and make sure everything's alright," she cries frantically.

"I promise you, it is." Opening the door a little more, he steps in, immediately noticing the bag on her bed. "Were you planning on just up and leaving in the dead of night?"

"I can't wait," she whispers.

"I'm going with you," he says. When she starts to object, he holds up his hand, cutting her off. "That's why Bann Teagan sent me and not a normal courier. He wanted me to escort you."

"I can take care of myself…" she mumbles.

"I know that, and they know that. It's safer for everyone this way."

She looks up at him, blue eyes keenly observing him. "How did Teagan rope you into this?"

He runs a hand through his curled hair, noting that parts are still matted with blood. He needs to bather _soon_. "He didn't. I…volunteered." Sonsa tilts her head curiously as he continues. "I live in Rainesfere. I…I know, Sonsa. I was there at the beginning. If you could see how different Rainesfere is now, you would understand."

"I think I do," she murmurs.

"Unless the situation has worsened since I left, there's not reason to rush out at midnight in the middle of the storm." Noting that she does not yet seem convinced, Cassio tries a different approach. "The queen is here for you. You asked her to wait until morning, so you need to be here in the morning."

"But, the letter…"

"Can wait."

Despite having met only hours earlier, Sonsa throws her arms around his neck, burying her face into his chest. He awkwardly rubs her back as he feels her hot tears on his chest. However, neither of them notice the third person hovering outside the door.

Unsatisfied with how things had been left between them, Anders had come upstairs to talk things over with Sonsa. Now, seeing the two fit together like pieces of a puzzle, he cannot help but wonder as he walks away how much truth there is to Oghren's words.

Tears finally shed, Sonsa pushes away from Cassio, offering him a small smile. "Sorry…"

"There is no need to apologise," he responds as he tucks a strand of her brown hair behind her ear. "You should get some rest. After we talk to the queen, we can head out in the morning."

She takes his hands in hers and gives them a tight squeeze. "Thank you, Cassio."

"Goodnight, Sonsa," he winks as he shuts the door behind him.

She sighs and decided to take a bath to relax before trying to sleep. Unfortunately, there is no water over the fireplace, probably because no one has been staying in here for quite some time. Not feeling like walking, she conjures some ice into the tub and melts it down with fire. The water now nice and warm, she quickly strips and unpins to two buns at the nape of her neck before sinking into the bath.

Too distracted by her bath, she does not notice the door of her wardrobe slowly creaking open or the dark haired man slipping out of it. She closes her eyes, resting her head against the back of the tub.

The creaking of the wooden floor is what finally catches her attention. She languidly opens her eyes to look into the deep silver eyes of her intruder, inches from her face, his dagger nearing her naked skin.

Panic flashes through his mind as he finds himself staring into her bright blue eyes. Her red lips fall open, and he fears that she shall scream for help. Instead, her lips press into a thin line, and she frowns. His pale skin goes even whiter as she rears back her hands, and he finds himself flying backwards, mouthful of rock. Of course. He should have remembered that she was a mage.

A groan slips out of his mouth as he stands, but he finds himself unable to move. A sheen layer of ice coats his body. He looks up at her to spit out an insult but goes silent when she rises out of her bath. Despite himself, he finds his eyes growing appreciatively wide at her wet, naked body.

Still dripping, she calmly walks to the wardrobe he had been hiding in and opens it, pulling out a small fold of silk. As she slips it on, he realises it is a house robe – and a very short one at that. The fabric barely reaches the middle of her toned thighs.

"You can stop ogling me now," she says plainly as she lowers herself into a chair and begins to weave her long hair into a braid over one shoulder. He ignores her comment, trying to break himself free of the ice suit. "It's five inches thick," she continues. "You won't break free anytime soon. When you painfully begin to thaw, I'll simply refreeze you."

That only makes him more determined to break free. The idea of being trapped here by this witch was utterly humiliating. She sighs and gets up to sit on the edge of the bed, a mere foot from him. "Why don't you make this easier on both of us and tell me what's going on?"

"As if I would submit to the likes of you," he sneers. Something about his voice and expression remind her of someone.

"Like I said, I can just let you thaw, which is extremely painful in its own rights, then refreeze you all over again. And trust me," she leans in, her intense blue eyes combating with his own silver ones, "I can go all night."

"Sonsa?" a voice in the hallway calls. "Everything alright? We heard a commotion."

"Everything is just fine," she calls back.

The door opens, and Anders, Oghren, and Cassio spill into the room, taking in the scene. Cassio first lets out a low whistle at her robe before bursting out into laughter. Anders's face goes from shades of red to purple. Oghren simply grins and shakes his head, "That's my girl."

"Oh, I always knew a mage would be the best lover," Cassio laughs. "Imagine the possibilities."

Her cheeks burn red, obviously not having seen the situation in that light. "Where did he come from?" Anders demands.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," she deadpans.

"Don't he look like that guy that worked with Loghain?" Oghren asks.

Recognition flashes in her eyes. "Of course! That's why I recognised you. You're a Howe!" He grumbles to himself, letting them know that she is right. "Didn't the Howes used to own Amaranthine?"

"Exactly," he snaps.

"So, you're either trying to reclaim your ancestral home or get revenge for your father's death," she surmises. "Am I right?"

He blinks, frustrated that she had figured it out so easily. "Yes."

"Well, which Howe are you?" Cassio asks. "Nathaniel or Thomas?"

"Nathaniel."

"A pleasure to meet you, Nathaniel," Sonsa grins.

"Mockery isn't very flattering," he snarks.

"Who said I was mocking you?" she adds pleasantly. He blinks, obviously not expecting that kind of reaction. "Somebody go get Seneschal Varel."

Moments later, Varel enters the room, wearing a long nightshirt. "What's all the commotion? I – Oh, my!"

"Varel, meet Nathaniel Howe," Sonsa says with a smile.

"A Howe! How? And why is he frozen?"

"Since he hasn't explained, I assume he was trying to kill me while I was in the bath."

"Oh, how scandalous," Cassio hisses.

Nathaniel's face twists in pain, and Sonsa hesitates. "It's starting to thaw, isn't it?" Even though he does not respond, she knows that she is right. "Everybody step back she warns. Her face twists into an apologetic expression. "Now, just relax and try not to squirm." Without another word, she sets him on fire."

Nathaniel can't tell if the screams in his ears are the other men's or his own. First, panic sets in, but after a moment, he notices that she's focusing the flames on the ice. As the ice gets thinner, the flames get hotter. Finally, she stops casting her spell, and he looks down to realise the ice is gone and that is is soaking wet in a large puddle.

"Sorry about that," she murmurs. "It was either that or let you thaw."

"I think that was preferable, thank you, he says lowly.

"Now that that's done," Varel says, "throw him in the dungeon."

Nathaniel reaches for his bow, determined not to go down without a fight. Before he can, Sonsa jumps up. "Is that really necessary, Seneschal?"

All the men in the room look at him in confusion. Common sense would dictate that a captured assassin be thrown into prison or executed. Only Oghren seems unsurprised. "Again, girl? Yer mercy knowns no bounds, huh?"

"Again?" Varel echoes.

"You all know of Zevran, yes? The elf who helped me defeat the Blight?" Sonsa smiles fondly. "When we met, he was trying to kill me too." While the name Zevran was common knowledge, that tidbit of information was not. "I could've killed him then, but I didn't. We spoke, and he showed me what a great ally he could be."

Cassio lets out a snicker. "Wait a minute, you mean…"

"Nathaniel Howe, I'd like you to become a Gray Warden."


	4. Chapter 4

"_What?_" Nathaniel cries. "No! I'll never be a part of your order!"

"If I may ask, Commander, why do you want him?" Varel asks.

"Even I at the Circle have heard of his talents. Archery, poisons, tracking," she turns to look at him. "Am I missing anything?"

"N-No," Nathaniel stammers, obviously embarrassed that she has heard of him.

Turning back to Varel, Sonsa continues. "I do feel responsible for his father's death and his family's loss, even if it was inadvertent."

"You…do?"

"The Wardens never asked for Amaranthine. It was a gift from Queen Anora," she explains. "Personally, I think the pariah of the Howe family is ridiculous. Only Rendon was involved in that."

"You have a sense that most Fereldens lack," he adds, a small smile teasing at his lips for the first time. "You are certain you want a Howe in your order?"

She smiles compassionately. "I've had an assassin, a bard, a witch, a murderer, a bastard, a possessee, and a rock as my companions. I think a Howe is the least of my worries."

A humoured light twinkles in Nathaniel's eyes. "You are a very strange woman."

"So, I'll take that as an agreement?"

"I…suppose so."

"Wonderful," Varel sighs. "Now can we please all go back to bed?"

"Wonderful idea," Sonsa agrees, stifling a yawn.

Everyone files out of the room except for a hesitant Howe. "Uh, thank you. For your faith in me. I do not think I would have been so kind to myself were I in your shoes."

Sonsa falters, a sigh slipping past her lips. "You may soon come to realize that being a Warden is not a kindness." She lowers herself back onto her bed, blue eyes keenly peering up at him. "Catch up to the seneschal and ask him for some dry clothes and a room. We can talk more in the morning."

"Yes…Commander."

He shuts the door behind him as he walks out, and she flops backwards on the bed. Her bath, now cold, remains forgotten as she crawls underneath the covers still in her house robe and gives in to another restless sleep.

Morning comes all too soon. Sonsa takes as much time dressing as she can, dreading all she has to do. The queen, the Joining, and Seneschal Varel were just a few of the things on her schedule today. All she really wants to do is take Cassio and rush to Redcliffe and Rainesfere. Unfortunately, suddenly being named arlessa brings about sudden new responsibilities.

A sharp rap at the door makes her jump. "Ah, come on in."

The door opens, and Cassio and Oghren pop their heads in. "Goodmorning, Commander!" the elf merrily chimes.

"Morning, boys," she smiles at their reflection in her vanity mirror as she beginning twisting up her hair. "Got some news?"

"Ah, yes, actually," Cassio says slowly, his chipper attitude immediately vanishing. She pauses, not liking what that implies, but nods for him to continue. "I don't think we'll be able to leave Amaranthine today."

"I know," she sighs. "I spoke to Varel last night. Apparently, Howe didn't do a very good job of taking care of his arling, and now I have my work cut out for me. I suppose you told Oghren though?"

"As the only other one who actually knows what's going on, I thought he deserved to know."

"Makes sense."

"When you go, take me with you? It's just…" the dwarf clumsily fumbles for words.

"I understand, Oghren," she smiles at his reflection reassuringly. "I was planning on bringing you anyway."

"Oh. Well, you coulda said so!" he growls.

"Scared we were going to leave you?" Cassio teases.

"Twinkle Toes and I don't exactly get along, and neither does he and Peeper."

After a moment's silence, Sonsa swivels around on her stool, still continuing to fix her hair. "I'll bite. I understand Twinkle Toes, but Peeper?"

"He peeped on you in the bath, right?"

"Unintentionally."

"Then it fits!"

Giggling, she turns back to her vanity. "Well, is that all you had to tell me?"

"There's another reason we can't go now," Oghren starts.

"Pilgrim's Path is blocked," finishes Cassio.

Her hair forgotten, she turns back to face them. "What do you mean it's _blocked_? That's the only road to Denerim and…and the rest of Ferelden."

Cassio shrugs. "Something about bandits in the Wending Woods. Seneschal Varel will be able to tell you more. Oh, and he wanted us to tell you that _it's time_."

Sighing, she forces herself to finish her hair. "Go on down to the throne room. I'll be there shortly."

"Yes, Commander."

Down in the throne room, Anders halfheartedly flips through a book while Nathaniel just saunters around, examining the pictures he had not seen in years. Cassio and Oghren walk in together, whispering a quiet conversation.

All eyes suddenly turn to the beautiful woman who walks in the room, but only Cassio has the sense to bow to the queen. Anora gratefully nods in his direction before sitting in the chair provided for her beside the throne, her templar guard standing directly behind her.

"Who is that?" Nathaniel whispers to Cassio who shoot him a questioning look.

"I thought all humans, especially nobles would recognize their queen."

"I've only been in Ferelden a month," hisses the Howe, "and I'm no longer a noble but a warden."

"Not yet," chimes in another voice, "but we shall rectify that soon enough." They bother turn to the doorway, both equally shocked at what they see. As of late, the fashion for Ferelden women has been tight, defining dresses that leave little to the imagination. Then again, Sonsa was never very fashion forward.

Flowing gently behind her, the loose dress floats like a wave on the sea, the colour of the fabric the blue of stormy waters. Her sleeves pillow out loosely, giving their commander a whispy appearance. Her hair, having knotted up to dry, falls in curling ringlets, framing her face perfectly. Her bright eyes sparkle to life, focusing on something on the other side of the room. Or, more correctly, someone. Anders cannot tear his own eyes from hers, mouth hanging open slightly.

"We really need to find out what happened between them," Cassio whispers, and Nathaniel mumbles a halfhearted agreement, still enraptured.

When she nears the throne, Sonsa forcefully turns her gaze to the queen, and a radiant smile spreads across her face as she curtsies. "Your Majesty."

"Come now, Sonsa. No formalities between the two of us," Anora says with a soft smile. "It's thanks to you that I am on the throne at all."

The two women exchange quick kisses on the cheek and lower themselves into their respective chairs. Anora smooths out her dress as she continues. "I'm terribly sorry that we arrived too late. I was hoping to be here in time to give the Hero of Ferelden a royal welcome, but it seems we only got here after you saved the day again."

Sonsa shifts uncomfortably. "Anora, there's a problem. The road to Denerim is blocked. You will have to stay here until we can clear it."

"That is unfortunate," Anora echoes. "I was hoping to leave after we spoke today. Have you heard any news…?"

"Just a letter," Sonsa mumbles. "I won't be able to make it until we clear the way to Denerim."

"Then may I suggest that be your first course of action?"

"Of course. We shall go into Amaranthine to gather supplies and then be on our way," Sonsa nods. "In the meantime, I shall have my men move your things to a larger suite. If you need anything while we are gone, I shall instruct Seneschal Varel to take care of it."

"Thank you, Sonsa. You are a most gracious host."

"My lady," there is one other thing," the templar behind her says suddenly, an oddly hostile look on her face.

"What is it, Ser Rylock?"

The templar points an accusatory finger towards Anders. Two of her men step forward from the shadows and hook him by the arm, dragging him before the throne. "I have been observing that man since our arrival. He is a wanted apostate and is no doubt responsible for the deaths of the templars that brought him here."

Sonsa looks up to her feet, rage pooling in her eyes. "I've never seen her that angry before," Mhairi murmurs.

"This? Oh, this isn't even the worst of it," Oghren says nonchalantly.

"Your templars were killed by the darkspawn," Sonsa explains through gritted teeth.

"Did you witness this yourself, _my lady_?" Ser Rylock retorts, nearly hissing out the title.

"Well, no—"

"Then I'm afraid I cannot take your word for it."

"You release him this instant," the mage barks out.

The templar shakes her head stubbornly. "He is under the—"

"Ser Rylock, I believe the arlessa has given you an order," Anora says forcefully. The two other templars release Anders's arms but still stand against him.

"Be that as it may, the murdering mage must be taken back to the Circle."

Panic flashes through bother Sonsa's and Anders's eyes. After this ordeal and his many escape attempts, there is only one option. Neither really wants to think about it. "You can't…" she whispers.

Did you have something to say, _Commander_?" Anora asks, placing emphasis on the title.

Catching on, Sonsa's eyes light up enthusiastically. "You cannot take him. I invoke the Right of Conscription!"

"_What_?" cry both Anders and Ser Rylock.

"This man shall become a Gray Warden," Sonsa continues gleefully. "He is no longer under the jurisdiction of the Chantry."

"No, I will not allow it! Men, seize him!" Ser Rylock sputters. The two men reach towards the mage but stop after both Anora and Sonsa flash them threatening looks.

"But I shall, Ser Rylock," Anora says as she rises. "This man is out of your reach." Sonsa looks to the queen, mouthing a grateful _thank you_. "Now, if you shall have your men show me to my new rooms, I think I shall settle in."

Sonsa nods. "Of course. Captain?" Garavel approaches the throne, bowing to each of them. "Have a couple of your men go gather the queen's belongings. You show her to the eastern suite."

"Yes, my lady."

Anora and her templars follow Captain Garavel out of the room. Letting out a sigh, Sonsa descends the stairs, stopping right in from of Anders. "I don't—" he starts his voice cracking. "I can't—"

She throws her arms around him, her own breath shaking. He squeezes her tightly and inhales, the smell of her rushing into him. She steps back, tears in her eyes. "We need to talk." Unsure whether to feel anxious or over joyed, Anders simply nods. "But first," she continues, "there are some things we must take care of."

"Commander, we cannot wait any longer," Varel starts, walking up to the two despite their close proximity. "We must proceed with the Joining."

Her eyes widen, flashing towards Anders in a panic. "Now?"

"Now, Commander."

"I—" she sighs. Either they shall talk or they shan't. She lifts up a silent prayer to the maker before nodding her head. "Let's get on with it then. Gather all the recruits. I shall prepare."

Sonsa stands before them, regarding each one. The determined Mhairi, they loyal Oghren, the confident Anders, the focused Nathaniel. Each one worthy, each just as deserving as the other, yet each has as much possibility as succumbing as the next. Was it fair to take one and not the other?

Since Alistair died slaying the Archdemon, she had known that is would be her sole responsibility to build up the Wardens in Ferelden. She had definitely not been looking forward to this moment. She looks down at the chalice in her hand, the blighting drink staring back at her. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she pushes past her hesitation and continues.

"It was just two years ago," she begins, "when I went through this same Joining underneath Duncan of Rivain. It was he who instilled in my fellow Gray Warden and me the courage and honour we would need to face the Archdemon. There are few words spoken, but they have been shared since the beginning.

"_Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn, and, should you perish, know that your sacrifice shall not be forgotten and that one day we shall join you."_

She approaches Mhairi, the first in line. "From this day forth, Mhairi, you are a Gray Warden." The woman takes the chalice and, without a moment's hesitation, tilts it back. She hands it back to Sonsa and offers her a smile before everything goes wrong.

Her skin pales instantly, eyes rolling in the back of her head and showing nothing but the whites. Whatever the blood has shown Mhairi, the woman does not like. She screams, clawing at the air, blood gargling in her throat. Stumbling backwards, Mhairi lets out one last pained screech and falls back, her heart giving out.

"I am sorry, Mhairi," Sonsa tearfully whispers. At her own Joining, Daveth had been the only one to die from the blood, and that had scarred her immensely. To see it happen to a women she had bonded with, however, was even worse.

The men look up at Sonsa in a horrified unity. "Is…is that going to happen to us?"

She merely shakes her head. "We cannot say. It is a risk that must be taken." Taking a deep breath, she turns to Oghren. He nods at her reassuringly. "From this day forth, Oghren, you are a Gray Warden."

The dwarf takes the chalice and knocks it back, quickly passing it back to Sonsa. His skin too pales and his head begins to shake. He squeezes his eyes shut, a shudder making its way down his spine. His mouth falls open and out comes the loudest belch any of them had ever heard the dwarf procure. He blinks once, twice, and chuckles. "Not bad."

"Well, that was anticlimactic," Anders murmurs.

Sonsa just giggles. "Welcome to the Wardens."

Turning to the next in line, she immediately grows somber. His brown eyes find her blue orbs and, just for a moment, the world around them stops. They are back in the Circle, closer than kin. Back to that last night. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she offers him the chalice. "From this day forth, Anders, you are a Gray Warden."

He hesitantly takes it from her, regarding the contents. "No turning back now," he mumbles before taking a sip. His hands begin to shake, and Sonsa quickly jerks the chalice back. His body gives into quick spasms. His eyes roll back into his head, and he collapses to the ground, a long breath slipping past his lips.

Sonsa falls to his side, frantically checking for any vital signs. His chest rises slowly, eyelids rapidly moving. She sighs in relief. "He will live." Standing to her feet, she picks up the chalice again, turning to Nathaniel. He fidgets slightly but nods at her to go forward. "From this moment forth, Nathaniel, you are a Gray Warden."

He takes the cup from her, looking at the red liquid. "This is…their blood?" Sonsa just nods, and that seems to be enough for him. Shaking his head, he raises the cup to his mouth. "You make me do strange things, Commander."

For a moment, it seems as if nothing will happen. She hesitantly takes the chalice back, unsure of what to expect. Suddenly, Nathaniel's entire body stiffens, and he falls back, the air knocked out of his lungs.

After judging the he too shall live, Sonsa passes Varel the chalice. "Have some men carry Nathaniel and Anders to their rooms and to get Mhairi's body." She turns to the dwarf, a grin plastered across her face. "And you…do as you normally do."

"I'll go see what's cookin'. Maybe sneak a bit o' ale," he says cheerfully.

Once everyone has left the room, Sonsa steps up, eyes on the rafters. "You can come on down now."

A soft chuckles comes above, and, moments later, Cassio drops nimbly to the floor. "How long did you know I was there?"

"Since Mhairi's…death," she says pointedly. "I heard your prayer for her."

The elf's eyes drop to the floor. "Andraste bless her. She was a good woman."

"That she was," Sonsa sighs. "It's funny. Out of all of them, she wanted to be a Warden the most."

Cassio looks up at the mage sadly. "At least she got her final wish."


End file.
